A year ago I still had a flip phone and spent my summer days picking blackberries and watching my mother garden.
Now I not only own a smartphone, but have downloaded the dating app Tinder. For those few remaining saints who aren’t familiar with such superficiality, Tinder locates the guys or gals in your area, shows you a few pictures, and you swipe right if you’re interested, left if you’re not.
This may account for the 18 percent divorce rate in Spain, much lower than that of other Western countries.
Chatroulet adult sexlive - Spanish dating customs
While Tinder has not led me to lifelong love, it has opened my eyes to several hurdles that cross-cultural dating in Spain and/or full-on relationships could present.
Though I’ve since stopped using it, I thought I’d take the opportunity to shine some light on some cultural questions that came up during my experiences meeting people through the app.
And also: Tinder sucks, drains your battery, is addicting, will consume all subsequent conversations with your single girlfriends, makes you realize the world is full of creeps, and you’ll judge yourself for using it—but it does help you meet people in a place that’s not known for its hug-giving locals. So after a very minimal study of dating in Spain, here are 5 common practices that American girls should—and must, to be successful—keep an open mind about when chatting up Spanish, and particularly Basque, hunks.
This is not a source of shame; it is a fact of life.
You want to be holding hands and taking walks by the beach.
You know it gets lonely during those cool January nights.
If he´s into you then you can expect him to ask you to meet his mum, cousins and uncle Jose pretty quickly.
Spanish men typically are still living at home until well into their 30s so his mum is likely to be the queen of his world (who irons his pants and gives him a Tupperware to take to the office).
I shot my Spanish girlfriends a look that said, “Watch this,” and before they had a chance to stop me, I marched right up to Señor Guapo and his buddies. The fluid chatter of his friends was swallowed by an uncomfortable silence, and Señor Guapo responded with little more than a nod. I was raised by two human rights advocates in a household of five women (and one very patient, gray-haired father).